The Harvest
by uniwonder
Summary: IDW: Megatron wants a bigger army and he plans on using the seekers to achieve his goal. First pairing: Thundercracker/Arcee. Sticky.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor am I making any profit by writing this._

Warning: Sticky  
Pairing: IDW Thundercracker/Arcee

I haven't written smut in a long time... I hope it's decent.  
As always, feedback is appreciated!

* * *

Arcee struggled against her binds, optics glistening with fear as her captor approached; heavy footfalls indicated his mass and that particular gait spoke of a sweeping wingspan characteristic only to the seekers. The femme felt her body grow slack as he entered the holding cell. It was dark; too dark to indicate which seeker now shared her personal space. Was it the psychopathic Skywarp, the traitorous, easily excitable Starscream; or was it the even-tempered god of thunder himself? All three were equally handsome and each had their certain charm, though Arcee would never allow herself to be seduced by the enemy.

"What are you waiting for?" she spat. "Why are you just standing there?" She could hear his low growl resonate from within that deep chest, signifying his interest in the prisoner bound before him. Without the AllSpark, the Cybertronian species had no choice but to revert back to their most primal, most energy depleting methods of reproduction. Arcee knew this—as did the seeker.

"Megatron wants more troops," droned the mech. She immediately recognized the voice as being that of Starscream's elder brother. It was profound and masculine; like the aggressive thunder of a virile storm. And for a moment, Arcee nearly overlooked the reality of her situation. Her optics quickly brightened with newfound rage, mentally formulating 100 ways to kill the Decepticon leader.

The seeker leaned in. "Don't make this more difficult than it already is, Autobot."

Being in the presence of a physically desirable mech was enough to initiate the breeding protocols of a female, though his response would depend solely upon how well he picked up on her scent and body language. From that moment on, interruptions would not be tolerated and may result in violence and other displays of dominance. Arcee recalled the lessons Ratchet had given her regarding Cybertronian reproduction. It was only fair to make her, and any other femme, aware of the situation they had been forced into.

He also mentioned that, because of the AllSpark, the need for females dwindled and evolution caused their population to decrease until only a handful remained. Now, female Cybertronians are considered a precious resource. And it was just like Megatron to _abuse_ that resource.

"Your mind is elsewhere…"

Arcee stiffened beneath his amber gaze. "Go to hell," she retorted, only to be promptly silenced by clawed digits sinking into the soft metal of her cheek plates. "I'm trying to make this easier on you." The seeker quickly found spit upon his cockpit in response. Disgusted, Thundercracker tightly held her skull within his hand and forced her cheek against the ocher glass, effectively smearing the fluid onto her metallic skin. "Stop being a _bitch_," he grumbled, forcefully flinging her head back against the metal wall.

"This isn't getting anything accomplished."

Thundercracker removed the shackles, causing her body to fall forward.

"She's already head over heels for ya, TC?" remarked Rumble, trailed by his twin's irksome cackle. The seeker's wings shifted in irritation, his warning gaze locked onto the pesky cassettes. Arcee took advantage of the distraction and attempted to escape, only to be tackled to the ground by the massive jet. This caused Rumble and Frenzy to jump, clearly taken aback by the mech's quick and aggressive action.

"Heh, maybe we should get out of here," said Frenzy. The two then hastily departed, leaving the Decepticon and his prisoner alone once more.

Thundercracker exhaled deeply. The way his armor scraped against her own was almost unbearable; even the slightest of movements sent a jolt of electricity up her spine. Arcee trembled beneath his weight. She felt the pleasurable vibration he was creating through subtle engine revs, igniting her spark. And her body became a slow-moving puddle of goo as his large hands ghosted over her frame, leaving no crevice or seam untouched.

The seeker's journey ended at her rear, where he slid the length of his hand between her thighs, coaxing the crotch plate to open. When it did, majority of the armor covering her lower half receded, exposing the pliable wiring beneath. Thundercracker had successfully entranced the female to the point of words being of little use; all she had to do was simply spread her legs further apart. Arcee peered back at the jet as he retracted his own armor, revealing his sizeable phallus. Her optics dimmed at the sight before returning her gaze to the bars of her holding cell.

The moment of penetration took her by surprise, causing a hiss to escape her through clenched teeth. As he withdrew, however, Arcee had a moment of panic and began to struggle once again. In turn, Thundercracker applied more weight, pressing her torso to the cold metal floor. He then bit down upon her sensitive neck cables, the elongated canines becoming dangerously close to vital wiring. The bite was unexpected, though it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Thankfully, he released her neck before any serious damage could be done as each thrust he delivered seemed to grow in force.

By now, Arcee was writhing in bliss, emitting soft grunts as she was worked into a heated frenzy. Above her, Thundercracker's cockpit brushed against her spine, adding to the energy web now flowing between them. He lowered his head to her audios, unable to hold back the feral growl that erupted from his throat as he felt her inner walls tighten around him.

"TC…" she mewed.

A small portion of her spark energy filtered down into the gestation chamber, where it soon met a flood of transfluid as the large jet overloaded into her sweltering valve. After a moment, Arcee snapped back to reality and dug her claws into the floor. "Get off of me…" she hissed. Thundercracker groaned, slowly withdrawing his thick member. "I will see you again shortly, femme." His pelvic armor slid back in place before he made his leave as quietly as he came.

"Thundercracker performed marvelously, my Lord."

A smile formed on Megatron's pale lips. "I can see that, Shockwave," he said, staring intently at the live feed streaming from Arcee's holding cell. "It may take a few sessions, but the Autobot should be carrying within a month's time."

Megatron frowned. "It's not soon enough."

"My Lord, it will take some time. It must be done at the right moment, lest we waste energy." The Decepticon leader scowled at the other mech. He knew Shockwave was right, and if waiting meant getting his army of fliers, then so be it.


	2. Chapter 2

:D

_Thank you for the review!  
__I was thinking about throwing in the Rainmakers and some other Decepticons and Autobots, just to make things interesting.  
_

* * *

Moonracer stirred; her optics brightening as she moved to sit up. Unlike Arcee, the sharpshooter had been placed into a room—a room that clearly belonged to someone else. She took in her surroundings, finding data tablets and a multitude of other knickknacks strewn about in a careless fashion. She then lifted her gaze to one of three doors lining the room. "Starscream…" she murmured, and glanced over her shoulder at the other door. "Thundercracker."

The femme cringed. "Skywarp…" Moonracer pressed her back against the wall. She was on his berth, her knees drawn up to her chest. "I need to get out of here." Her optics darted about the room, double-checking the shadows. Skywarp could pop in at any time, in any location, before she could even blink. The teal femme decided to go to the main door: "Dammit." It was locked.

The sound of footsteps could be heard outside of the room. As she stepped away from the door, Moonracer felt a prickling sensation run along her armor. That's when her back met something hard—"Have a good nap, Autoslut?" The small bot froze, half-expecting the jet to shoot her in the back. "Get on the berth," he ordered. Moonracer did as she was told, her gaze not once leaving the mech.

"So… I get the gunwhore."

She narrowed her optics. Of course, she would be stuck with the most vulgar of them. Skywarp approached the berth, his dark wings casting a shadow over the female. He was like a predator stalking his prey; and that voice of his…

"It's not every day the boss man orders us to make babies," he said with a suggestive leer. Moonracer remained calm as he pinned her down upon the berth's surface. He forced himself between her legs and trailed his large hand along her hips. "It's been awhile since I've had a femme."

The Autobot attempted to shrink away from the seeker, only to be met with a hand around her throat. Skywarp emitted a soft trill as he purposely scraped his armor against her own. It triggered something inside of her, something familiar. She carefully slid her hands along his cockpit, coaxing a pleased rumble from his chest. Moonracer retracted her pelvic armor, her hand reaching down to caress his own.

Before he could, however, another mech entered the room. "I knew I smelled a rat," screeched the Air Commander. Skywarp tensed and the two seekers stared at one another. Starscream lifted his wings higher. "You know you are not supposed to bring the femmes to your personal quarters. Tsk."

The younger mech removed himself from the berth and flared his wings. "Get out," he hissed. The haughty trine leader smirked. "No. Not until she is placed into a proper holding cell."

Moonracer sat up to watch the seekers bicker back and forth. She also noticed how Starscream left his door open. After making sure her valve was covered, the gunner hopped up and sped out of the room. Lucky for her, the Second in Command had left his main door unlocked.

* * *

"We have a problem."

"What is it, Soundwave?"

Megatron looked at the screen. "The Autobot Moonracer. Skywarp's charge… Soundwave, send Ravage and Blitzwing to capture the femme. It seems our dear seekers are incapable of holding onto their women."

"Yes, Megatron."

* * *

After an hour or so, Moonracer came to a small cave, where she hid herself from the triple-changer. She felt guilty for leaving the other Autobots, but… maybe she could get more help and free them before it's too late. "It's already too late," she murmured to herself. _"Perceptor… Are you there?" _She waited. _"Moonracer?" _The femme smiled, relieved to hear his voice. _"I need some help…"_

"_I will be there shortly."_

"Who is Moonracer?" Drift inquired softly.

Perceptor mounted his rifle onto his back. "She is a Wrecker," he said. The larger mech gave the scientist an odd look. The guy didn't seem like the type to bother with females, so it did indeed surprise him a bit. "I will call you, should I need assistance. In the meantime, please refrain from touching my instruments." Drift pursed his lips, waiting for the sniper to leave before fondling one of his tools.

Outside, Moonracer could hear the engine of a fighter plane flying overhead. She hoped it was merely the humans, but as the noise came to an abrupt stop, her worst fears became reality. "Autobot! I know you're here!" Blitzwing, of all Decepticons; they had to send _him._ Moonracer crept further away from the entrance, her spark beating faster with every footfall that echoed throughout the corridor.

_Hurry, Perceptor…_

The Nissan Tundra raced across the desert, nearing Moonracer's location. At that point, the Decepticon was closing in. Perceptor transformed and approached the scene with caution. He readied his rifle and aimed. It was a clear shot, right into the mouth of the cave.

Moonracer instinctively reached for a pistol that wasn't there. "You still have a job to do, femme," droned the triple-changer. Before the Decepticon could fire his weapon, Perceptor pulled the trigger of his own. Blitzwing collapsed to the floor of the cave, the bullet having gone straight through his head.

"Perceptor!"

The scientist wasted no time in getting to the cave. Ravage, of course, was nowhere to be found; thought to have fled just as soon as his partner fell. Moonracer stepped around Blitzwing's body, fearing his revival. She left the cave to meet Perceptor, her arms immediately locking themselves around his narrow waist.

"Thank you," she said.

The sniper simply allowed the contact before gently prying her off. "Are you hurt?"

"No, but I fear the others will be."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you for the reviews!  
__Your answers will come soon. :)  
_

* * *

"It's 9 o'clock at night. You should be resting."

Moonracer looked to the floor. "I couldn't sleep," she said. "I saw a light on and thought you could use the company." The scientist stopped what he was doing and finally regarded the femme properly. It was true—Perceptor had never really bothered with females, and the hug Moonracer had given him earlier just made things even more awkward. She wasn't the prettiest of fembots, but the scientist refused to see that; what she lacked in appearance, she made up for in character.

"Can I help you with anything?"

The lens mounted upon his shoulder shifted. "No." His voice held no feeling. It was a clear reminder that he wasn't the meek, heroic pacifist that he once was. The war truly was to blame for the changes seen in countless Cybertronians, herself included. "May I sit and watch, then?" Perceptor returned to his project; a silent confirmation, perhaps. She took it as an 'okay,' regardless.

It was difficult, however, to know she was there. With a small sigh, Perceptor placed his hands flat upon the surface before him and hung his head, optics focusing on his unfinished invention. "You look tense," said Moonracer. The scientist could hear the concern in her voice, and then the soft tap of her feet as she approached the work bench. She stood next to him to see the firearm he had been modifying for the past hour. "I remember when you weren't… like _this,_" she added.

"…"

Moonracer shifted uncomfortably. "I always thought you were really nice, well-spoken and chivalrous." He was a bit stressed and thus impatient—this conversation was not a conversation he planned on having. "I am very busy, Moonracer," he said, lifting one of his tools. He quickly realized what he said and how he must have said it, and turned his head to look at the teal female standing next to him. The two stared at one another for what felt like hours…

"I apologize."

"Don't."

"Kiss her already! Jeeze, the sexual tension in here is maddening!"

Perceptor shifted his gaze to the doorway, where Verity stood proudly. Without another word, the sniper stepped away from Moonracer and exited the laboratory, leaving the two women to their own devices. Verity sighed dramatically and ran over to the young femme as she lowered herself to the floor. "The chemistry between you guys is crazy," she said. "You know, Percy's a dick. What do you even see in 'im?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You have a total crush on him."

"… I…"

Verity frowned. She didn't mean to make the femme uncomfortable. "Eh, I'm sorry…" She placed a hand upon Moonracer's thigh plate, only to pull away as if burned. "You're hot to the touch," she drawled. _Magnus mentioned something about this. Oh man, how cool would it be to have little Perceptor-babies running around? He'll be annoyed as fuck. All. The. Time. Ha, minions._

"I can never face him again." Moonracer placed her hands upon her rounded cheeks. "I've liked him for so long, even before he… became a dick, as you said." Verity pursed her lips, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "What do chicks usually do in your position?" she asked softly. The femme sighed out and lowered her gaze to the human girl. "Call it a biological clock. We can tell when it's time… The hard part is finding a suitable mech, one that… triggers breeding protocols. Instinct takes over from there."

Verity listened intently. Apparently, playing cupid was going to be harder than she thought. "So, you found your suitable mech… You're in… heat, now. Why hasn't Percy tapped that ass, yet?"

"Perceptor has great self-control."

"Perceptor is still a mech. Scientist, sniper… Nature doesn't discriminate."

"I have no idea what to expect."

"You're…"

Moonracer nodded slowly.

"Aw, there's nothing to it…"

"No, you don't understand. They can become very aggressive."

"I doubt Percy will hurt you."

**Decepticon Base**

Elita sat unmoving within her chair, practicing stern silence as Megatron circled about her like a greedy scavenger. "Normally, I would offer you to my Second in Command. You see, I want an army of seekers—strong ones—and my fliers are starved of… intimacy. Arcee has already met twice with Thundercracker. She only asks for him, now." The femme commander tensed. "You're lying."

"Oh?" He paused in his steps and turned on the screen, showing Arcee in a very revealing position as the cobalt seeker drove himself into her willing valve. She arched her back, claws raking down Thundercracker's wings.

Elita could only watch in horror as her comrade succumbed to programming that had been suppressed for so long—until now. "You see, Elita; we match up your girls with our seekers based on certain aspects, assuring good, solid offspring. You and yours should be proud!"

"I would rather die, than carry your Decepticon's wretched seed," she spat. "Optimus will free us."

Megatron sneered, his clawed hands coming dangerously close to her exposed neck. "You think so?" With a small gesture of his hand, the Decepticon leader signaled for his air commander to approach. Starscream stepped into sight, his wings unusually high. "Get her ready." The seeker winced slightly at the order, and then dropped to his knees, forcing her legs apart as he dipped two fingers in behind her pelvic plating. He began to purr, attempting to comfort her. Elita recalled the unique vocalizations produced by the seekers—some of them held the potential of being very soothing. She lowered her blue gaze to the red and white jet hungrily licking at the seams of her armor. "I can't do this…" she whispered.

"Starscream."

The seeker stood and tore Elita away from the chair, only to force her onto the cold floor. He allowed a smirk to form as she began to struggle beneath him. Megatron, like the sick bastard he was, watched in pure amusement. "Soon, Elita, you will accept him. Your body cannot lie." As Starscream began to mouth the delicate cables of her neck column, Elita could feel her internals grow warm. Before she knew it, her hands were trailing along the seeker's wings and down the golden expanse of his cockpit.

"Yes…" Megatron grinned as her pelvic plating retracted. "_Fuck her_, Starscream."

Starscream dug his claws into her hip, his self-control wavering. His own armor retracted, revealing his ample spike. He wasted no time in delving the phallus into her awaiting valve, causing her head to slam back into the floor. Elita emitted a growl as her back arched, urging the seeker on.

Off to the side, Megatron was obtaining some sick pleasure in watching the couple, though he knew better than to get too close. Starscream was fully capable of taking him down while in such a state. Pity he could never harness that power during his many attempts at taking over.


	4. Chapter 4

Elita lied motionless on the floor of her cell. She was in agonizing pain, yet she felt… fulfilled—the seeker was certainly exquisite. Megatron's look, however, frightened her to the core. After it was all said and done, the Decepticon leader spoke to her; he explained the extensiveness of his plan. He told her that she wasn't meant for Starscream, that what happened was merely to get him riled up. He even went so far as to list off her 'sisters' and who they were intended for. This only served to anger her further, though she felt helpless and thus unworthy to consider herself as their leader. At that moment, Elita-one would welcome a quick death, knowing that was the inevitable outcome once she and her females carried out their purpose.

**Outside of the Decepticon base…**

"The place is surrounded," Ironhide grumbled. "How are we gonna get in?"

Kup assessed the situation, the cy-gar moving from one corner of his mouth to the other. He narrowed his optics as he went from one guard to the next. Had Perceptor joined them, moving in would be a piece of cake. The veteran mumbled as he shifted against the large rock. "Alright, this is what we're gonna do: Blurr, I want you and Drift to dispose of the guards while the rest of us break through the barriers. If you have any trouble, call in Ironhide."

"What?"

"You're riding on emotion… It'll compromise the mission."

The weapons specialist scoffed in Drift's direction. "What do you know about emotion? You're a Decepticon."

"I _was_ a Decepticon. _Was._"

"It makes no damn difference to me."

Kup ground his teeth against the cy-gar. "Enough or you'll both compromise the mission," he said. "We gotta get those girls out as quickly and as safely as possible. Ironhide, do as you're ordered and stay here unless called in. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright, let's move."

Blurr and Drift snuck closer to the facility, using the massive rock outcrops as cover. Outlining the perimeter of the base—drones, packing heavy weaponry, awaited their arrival; dome-shaped heads turning slowly, taking in their surroundings. "They're huge," Drift whispered. His partner looked to him: "Ready?" The sword-wielder gave a short nod, and the two transformed.

As Blurr went one way, Drift went the other. The drones fired up their battle protocols and began their attack. Bullet after bullet peppered the landscape as the two sports cars raced around their enemies, confusing them. The Maserati was the first to be hit, forcing him to transform. "I just got that fixed," he sneered, running a hand along part of the exposed wheel well. Blurr wiped out his pistol and began firing back.

"—back of the neck!"

He glanced to the Silvia as it swerved to a stop. Drift transformed and unsheathed his swords. "Hit them in the back of the neck. It's a weak spot." With that, he hopped onto one of the drones and ran the blades through the pliable metal, severing the spine and disrupting the drone's the signal flow. Blurr followed his lead; and, soon, the entire army was incapacitated.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Wreckers were in the midst of tearing down the thick barriers blocking the entrance. "It won't be long before they figure it out," Springer warned. Kup looked to their communications officer. "Blaster, anything?"

"No, sir. Nothing."

"Huh."

"You'd think Soundwave would've picked up on us, by now."

Kup had a worried look upon his face as they tore down yet another wall of metal.

Drift and Blurr soon joined them. "We got a problem—"

"—found an alarm system in the drones," Blurr added. "Decepticons know we're here."

"It's almost too easy." Kup bit down upon his cy-gar and signaled for his men to stop. They were at the last barrier and the old Autobot could almost feel the dangerous setting they now found themselves in. "Is it familiar to you, Drift?" he asked. The larger mech approached the wall, placing a hand there. "An ambush, perhaps… Then again, they could be completely oblivious."

"Keep in mind; these guys are hyped up on pheromones. Try to stay focused. Don't let yourself get carried away."

"Understood."

The small group carefully broke through the last barrier and ventured further into the base. They moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors, seeking out the entrance to the holding cells. Kup slowly came to a stop as they neared a corner. He peered around the edge, spotting two armed guards watching over the brig's only entrance. He gestured to his men, sending Drift in first.

It was easy, taking down the two bots, but something didn't sit well with the former Decepticon. Drift tightened his grip upon the hilt of his sword, now stained with the blood of his former brethren. It wasn't too long after that, the Wreckers found themselves surrounded.

Kup released an exasperated sigh. "Dammit."


	5. Chapter 5

_Oh, wow. XD  
__Thank you, all, for the reviews/alerts/favs!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor am I making any profit by writing this._

_Warning: Sticky smut._

* * *

Drift woke up, feeling sore and slightly disoriented. He rubbed at his helm, finding the source of his pain. Quietly, the mech took in his surroundings, noticing the other Autobots lying unconscious on the floor next to him. He cleared his vision further and gently nudged the blue mech using his lap as a pillow. "Blurr…" The response he received from the racer was less than desirable. Blurr had his arms wrapped around the swordsman's waist, hugging him tightly.

"Blurr," he repeated firmly.

"What?"

"Get up."

Drift gave a forceful shove, causing Blurr to sit up; startled. His optics, bright with confusion, darted around the holding cell. And that's when the pain hit—an intense pain that caused him to double over. "Did they have to hit us in the head?" he wailed dramatically. Drift pursed his lips and stood, making his way over to the cell gate. Across the corridor, he noticed another Autobot—a female. Blurr soon joined him, both mechs now eyeing the cell adjacent to them.

"Who is that?"

The racer cocked his head to the side. "Arcee… Springer's woman."

In the cell, Arcee lifted her gaze. She sneered at them.

"She doesn't seem too happy to see us."

Blurr shrugged. "Eh, she's always been a bitch."

Arcee tore her optics from the other Autobots. At this point, she didn't want to be rescued. In fact, she's grown rather fond of Thundercracker. Despite being a Decepticon, the seeker was actually rather attentive once she got to know him. The femme imagined how angry Springer would be and knew exactly what he would do to another mech's hatchling.

She placed a hand over her midsection. A few weeks from now, the bud will leave her and form a cocoon, where it will gestate for two more months. She had mixed feelings about it, what with the father being a Decepticon and all. At the same time, she felt like it was payback for Springer leaving her for the Wreckers.

The femme leaned against the bars of her cell. Along the corridor, the rest of the female Autobots could be seen staring out of their chambers, interested in the prison's new occupants.

"You Wreckers are supposed to be the best."

Blurr and Drift glanced down the hall. Chromia stood and gripped the bars. "You heard me, you bastards," she seethed. "What is all the commotion?" Kup moved to the cell gate. "Hey! Femme. Be thankful we came at all." The older 'bot grumbled a bit as he moved away from the bars. "Why didn't they kill us? It doesn't make sense." Drift approached his commander. "Sir, I have some information that might help."

**Autobot Base**

Verity lounged upon Perceptor's shoulder as he worked. "You should really think about asking her out." She was met with silence, of course. "I think you two would make a good couple." The scientist continued to keep his thoughts to himself, focusing on the task at hand. Verity was beginning to get annoyed. "You know, Percy… Moonracer has a nice ass. Don't you think?"

"That is _enough_, Verity."

The human huffed. "Think about it," she snipped and hopped down from his shoulder. She made her out of the laboratory, passing Moonracer on the way. The femme had a look of confusion written across her face as she entered the room. "What was that all about?" she inquired softly. Perceptor straightened and turned to greet his visitor. "You shouldn't be here, Moonracer. Only authorized personnel are permitted."

"Nice try…" Moonracer approached the workbench, glancing to whatever it was the sniper had been working on. "Verity seemed pretty upset. Is everything okay?" Perceptor made a noise of frustration as he returned to his project. "She will get over it," he said, trying to ignore how the female leaned so casually against the counter. Having been distracted, his fingers slipped, causing the tool to cut into his finger. Moonracer was quick to act; she took his hand in hers and brought the wounded digit to her lips. He watched intently as she cleaned away the fluid—with her tongue.

Perceptor slowly withdrew his hand. "Thank you." Her action was unnecessary, but somewhat pleasant. An awkward silence fell between them as they stared at one another. "You should go," he added, turning back to his experiment once again. The femme said nothing as she moved to leave the lab, feeling the dark cloud of rejection looming over her. Perceptor exhaled deeply, leaning heavily on the workbench. He didn't want her to leave, but at the same time, he was intimidated.

Later that night, Verity led Moonracer into the lab, gesturing to the sniper now sleeping at his workbench. The femme smiled. "That's normal for him," she murmured. Verity snickered and elbowed Moonracer's shin armor. "What if he gets mad at me?" The human pouted. "This is your chance, Moonie. Seduce that big stud. And don't forget what I told you."

Moonracer sighed and slowly, quietly approached the sleeping mech. She glanced over her shoulder to see Verity make some crude gesture with her tongue prodding the inside of her cheek. The female Autobot could feel her face plates heat up. She quickly looked away from the human and focused on her mission, carefully sliding under the counter. Now face to face with the black expanse of his pelvic plating, Moonracer found herself running off the excitement. She leaned in, running her glossa along the armor, her fingers brushing the sensitive wiring at his hip joint. She soon pulled her hand away and sat up a bit, resting her cheek against his midsection; allowing her fingertips to ghost over the coolant hoses.

"What are you doing?"

The femme's gaze widened upon hearing his voice. "I… um... How long have you been watching?"

"Long enough."

Moonracer gaped and unconsciously buried her face against his armor, trying to hide her embarrassment. "I'm sorry. Verity put me up to it."

"HEY!"

Perceptor glanced over his shoulder. "I'll have you know that Moonracer has had feelings for you for a _long_ time. I just… nudged her along," she said, giving a firm nod. The scientist wasn't impressed. He returned his gaze to the femme in his lap. "Verity. I believe it would be in your best interest, if you left my laboratory." The human glared at the sniper before leaving. "This was unnecessary," he added. Moonracer dimmed her optics. "You should know better than to take advice from a human, especially when it concerns certain aspects of our race."

"If you haven't noticed, Perceptor, she and I are the only females on this base. I needed someone to talk to." She watched as the mech stood, holding out his hand for her. He helped the femme to her feet and led her into a vacant storage room. It was dark and cramped, leaving barely enough room to move properly; the soft glow of their optics being the only light. "I knew of your interest in me, Moonracer."

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

"Because you are not ready."

"How would you know?"

"Moonracer, I am a scientist. Your hesitation clearly indicates your lack of readiness."

"Well, Mr. Scientist, how does a female get 'ready?'"

Perceptor stared at her for a moment before moving closer. He noticed how her body tensed and her optics brightened. Slowly, the sniper brought his hand up to the wiring just below her chest plate, coaxing a small whimper from her lips. He smirked and removed his touch. "Is this what you wanted?" Moonracer fell to her knees, feeling like jell-o as he towered over her. She felt her chassis heat up; the closeness the two found themselves in, coupled with the slight touch and her present feelings for the mech, caused her systems to properly initiate the breeding protocols. She lifted her hands to the treads mounted along his lower legs, her optics locked on his.

He could sense the change. He crouched down, getting a better look at her. "What did you do?" she asked quietly. Perceptor reached out to brush his fingertips along the curve of her cheek. "Now, you're ready."

Moonracer just stared at the sniper, her face contorting in frustration. He didn't expect her next move. She tackled him to the floor of the room, her legs straddling his waist. "Damn you," she hissed. Perceptor simply smiled, his hands now sliding along her thighs. "The aggression is normal." She retracted her pelvic armor, revealing the delicious mesh of wires. The sharpshooter ran her hands across his chestplate, fingertips outlining the Autobot symbol etched into the crystal. The touch alone was something he wasn't used to, but his body enjoyed it immensely.

The lubricant leaked from her valve, emitting a tantalizing scent that overrode his logic circuits. Perceptor dimmed his optics, allowing his pelvic plating to retract. Moonracer's small hands immediately went to the large spike as it slid out from its housing. She hugged it to the soft wiring of her abdomen, letting the ridges scrape along the sensors. "Perceptor…" Moonracer leaned forward, resting her cheek against his chestplate. The scientist shifted, moving to place her on the floor. He revved his engine a bit, sending the vibrations through her armor, as he guided the phallus to her valve.

The femme clawed at his frame as he began to move against her. She was overcome with the sensations that flowed from their connection; every sensor was ignited. Moonracer brought her lips to his audio receptors, letting the sniper know just how much she wanted him. She felt his hand grasp her hips as she tightened her legs around his waist. It wasn't long until she felt her valve clamp down around his spike. She gasped, feeling the ridges dig into the wiring, causing some slight discomfort.

Perceptor pressed deeper, letting his overload take over; transfluid flooding her gestation chamber. He emitted a soft purr, his arms holding his larger body above her as the femme slid her hands along his sides. When he shifted his weight, Moonracer tensed; his spike hasn't relinquished its hold, yet. Despite her pain, Perceptor moved to sit up, pulling her into his lap.

"It doesn't feel right…"

The sniper tilted his head.

"The others; they're out there risking their lives, trying to rescue Elita's team… And we're stuck here doing… this."

He smiled. "I must admit that the circumstance is not favorable. But, it happened. And it will happen again."

"It—what?"


	6. Chapter 6

"So, they want to stud us out, eh?"

"They've done it before… Turmoil captured Autobots and selected a handful for certain traits, collected their transfluid; then slaughtered them."

"But Decepticon females are so rare…"

"They used artificial wombs."

Kup tapped his chin thoughtfully. "And you think that's why they haven't killed us, yet? Are they _that_ desperate?" Drift hung his head a bit and glanced over to the rest of the Autobots. "I do." The older mech exhaled, trying to formulate a plan of escape. "They'll want to eliminate me. I'm too old and run down. The others, though…"

The door opened, pulling Kup from his thoughts. He and Drift approached the cell gate, catching sight of Thundercracker as he stood in front of Arcee's cell. Soon after, Skywarp and Starscream joined him. The Wreckers watched as the femme stepped out of her dark confines and placed her hands upon the seeker's cockpit in a gesture of affection. "That traitorous _bitch_," Springer hissed.

"Let's not jump to any conclusions, Springer."

"Are you kiddin' me? Look at her!"

Arcee glanced to the Wreckers before following Thundercracker out of the brig, ignoring how the other females gaped, clearly surprised by her actions. Skywarp smirked at Chromia before following his brother out. "Heh, you look so angry, Autobot." Starscream approached the Wreckers' holding cell. "You thought Arcee was so loyal to you, eh Springer? Too bad we caught her fucking Hot Rod before bringing her here." The seeker laughed as he continued to make his way down the corridor. Springer turned to look at Hot Rod standing off to the side. "You don't _believe _him, do you?" Before he could say anything else, the triple-changer sent his fist into the side of the younger bot's face, cracking metal.

"Spr—"

"_Don't _talk to me."

Drift and Blurr went to Hot Rod, helping him to his feet. "I… I didn't… I haven't been around Arcee in months," he said, wiping away the energon seeping from his wound. Kup placed his hand upon Springer's shoulder. "We don't need that, right now, Springer. We gotta work together on getting out of here."

**Decepticon Medbay**

Arcee rested upon the berth as Flatline scanned the bud growing within her. He had given the females a steroid to help accelerate the development, hoping they could produce the army faster. On the other berth, Elita watched Arcee, taking in her indifferent expression. Once Flatline left the two, the femme commander tilted her head, searching for the right words to say.

"Are you carrying, too?"

The distant sound of Arcee's voice flooded her audios, causing a shiver to snake up her spinal strut. "I suppose I am," she said. "Are the others?" Arcee turned her head to look at the other femme. "Chromia and Firestar. They haven't gotten to Greenlight, yet." Elita released a troubled breath. "What about Moonracer?"

Arcee smiled. "Moonracer escaped. She was meant for Skywarp, but… After she left us, Chromia was stuck with him. She left us, Elita. All of us."

"Now, Arcee…"

"No. She should have stayed and toughed it out. She sent the Wreckers to rescue us, and you know what? They've been captured, too."

Elita froze. Flatline made his way back to the females, looking between them. "What did I miss?" he inquired with a chuckle. "Heh, you two will start budding soon. Make yourselves comfortable." Arcee cringed and lifted her gaze back to Elita. She had a strange look in her optics—sadness, anger, confusion.

_Don't do it, Arcee…_

**Autobot Base**

Moonracer was lounging on a bench in the rec room, one of her legs dangling off the side. She felt restless. "Ooh, I wasn't expecting you to be in here, Moonracer," said Ratchet as he took a seat at one of the tables. "Hey, Ratchet," she mumbled, keeping her gaze locked on the ceiling.

"Something wrong, kiddo?"

Moonracer offlined her optics and moved to sit up. "Have you heard from Kup's team, yet? It's been awhile."

"No… No, I haven't."

"I'm worried."

"Yeah… Optimus is thinking about sending another team. The poor guy is distraught, his mind is jumbled. He would go himself, but… I don't know. He's handled a lot over the years."

"It's hard, when you worry for the life of a loved one, and to think she might be carrying a Decepticon's hatchling. I can't imagine how he must feel."

Ratchet nodded. "We'll get them out," he said. "Everything will be okay."

Moonracer gave the medic a sweet smile. "You always know what to say."

"Speaking of, I noticed your pheromone levels rose whenever Perceptor was nearby. Are you two…?"

The femme's optics widened. "RATCHET!" She hid her face behind her hands, eliciting a light-hearted laugh from the mech. "I never thought the guy would bag such a cutie," he said. "He's always been so reserved and proper." She lowered her hands and stared at the medic. "I liked him long before he became a Wrecker. While my friends were swooning over hunks like Inferno, I fell for the geekiest of the geek."

Ratchet smiled softly at the femme. She was good for Perceptor, he thought. "Of course, after I told Greenlight my feelings for him, she up and disowned me as a friend," she added. "She liked him, too." Moonracer gave a small pout, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn't care if it ruined her friendship with the green fembot. Why should she sacrifice her happiness to satisfy Greenlight's? Pfft.

Both Autobots fell silent as the door opened, revealing Perceptor. "I hope I did not interrupt anything," he said calmly. Ratchet stood from the table. "Not at all. I was just leaving." Perceptor placed his hand upon the medic's chest. "You might want to hear what I have to say. I just received word from Mirage. The Wreckers have been captured."

"Does Optimus know?"

Perceptor nodded. Ratchet sighed and moved past the scientist to seek out his commander. Moonracer stood from the bench. "Will you go with them?" she asked, stepping closer to him. The red and teal mech nodded once again. "It is my duty to assist my comrades. As it should be yours."

"What if I'm caught again?"

"I will not let that happen."


	7. Chapter 7

_;D_

_Warnings: Child abuse/death  
_

* * *

Optimus wasted no time in getting another team together. Plans were made, strategies placed; and weapons primed. Moonracer was ready to prove to her 'sisters' that she did not abandon them. The Autobot medic, however, had a different say on the matter: "You're staying here," he said. "It's my duty to help them; to help the Autobots!" Ratchet shook his head. "No. You will stay put. That's an order." Moonracer felt her body grow limp. In her head, she replayed Perceptor's words—'_as it should be yours'. _If she remained at the base, would he be disappointed?

She raced back to Perceptor's lab, finding him standing next to a computer. "I'm not going," she said. Moonracer watched as he turned to face her, his optics roaming across her form. "I know." She tightened her lips and stepped closer; her gaze capturing a glimpse of his rifle. "Why the change of heart?" she asked. "What was that about fulfilling your duty as an Autobot?"

The sniper felt a slight smile tug at his lips. "You are… invaluable, to me." Moonracer stared, confused by his tone. "I will return," he added, lifting a hand to her round cheek, before slipping past her still form. She was left bewildered and yet strangely comforted by his words and the feeling he left within her spark. At that point, she could say she truly had it bad for the scientist.

In the main room, Optimus Prime stood before his selected group of soldiers. Normally, rescue missions were successful and not at all difficult. But, for the Wreckers to be overthrown so quickly, it was almost as if someone knew they would be there. Then again, they weren't known to be the quietest of mechs.

From the entrance, Moonracer watched as the team set off towards the Decepticon base. She then took a deep breath and stepped away as soon as they left her sight. She still felt restless, especially now that everyone had gone—well, not everyone. Red Alert was in the security room. Perhaps he could provide her with some company.

**Decepticon Base**

"Elita…" she whispered. "Elita."

The female commander shifted, onlining her optics to see Arcee hunched over her. "What is it?" The younger femme took Elita's hand and placed it upon the blue bulge across her midsection. "It's happening." She sat up. "Arcee, shouldn't you be in your birthing room? Why are you here?"

"Because I'm not going to let the Decepticons have the pleasure of getting what they want," she said. Elita stared, horrified. "Don't do it, Arcee. Please."

"You would do the same thing, Elita."

"No, Arcee. Don't."

The smaller female slid back, her body expelling the bud. As it crawled onto the floor, it screeched, hissing at the two Autobots. Elita could see the tiny wing nubs along its back, clearly signs of being a seekerlet. The hatchling waved its tail, warning the much larger Cybertronians. Arcee hesitated, at first, before lunging forward, taking hold of the creature—but not without being bitten and clawed as it struggled for its life.

"Arcee, stop!"

She took hold of the hatchling by its head and body, pulling it apart with ease. She offlined her optics as she held the motionless corpse against her chest. Elita knew that when they found her, she would be executed. "Arcee…" Her voice was soft, now. She coaxed the dead hatchling from her grasp. "Arcee, you…" Elita couldn't formulate words; her mind could not comprehend the act Arcee had just committed.

"I had to do it, Elita."

Flatline entered the room, shocked by the sight that greeted him. "You _idiot!_" He shoved Arcee aside and took up the dead hatchling. He withdrew his gun and aimed at the femme. "I should kill you right now…" He then pulled the weapon away. "But, I'll let Thundercracker deal with you, instead." The medic glanced to Elita. "You'll be having yours soon. _Very _soon. I'll have to keep an eye on you." He offered a sadistic smile and turned to Arcee. "I look forward to seeing your insides."

The two watched as the mech left, carrying the tiny corpse with him. Arcee looked to Elita. "You have to destroy it." The elder femme stood. "No. Despite the circumstances, it's still a hatchling; it did not choose to be born into a world like this. You were weak in doing what you did, Arcee. For that, I am ashamed."

"…Fine. I'll just kill it for you."

"What did you say?"

Arcee snickered. "You want to help the Autobots? Destroy the Decepticon spawn." Elita emitted a low growl, standing her ground as the other female displayed an attack stance. Before she knew it, the smaller femme had her pinned to the floor, claws scratching down her armor, aiming for her swelling abdomen. The two tossed Cybertronian curses, feral sounds of aggression as Elita fought for her life as well as the bud growing within her.

Outside of the birthing chamber, Flatline grinned maliciously. Thundercracker soon entered the medbay, his wings tense as he made a straight line towards the chamber. He tore open the door and took hold of Arcee's helm, causing her to freeze in place. The seeker pulled the femme out of the chamber and threw her onto the medbay floor. "She's insane, sir. Beheaded your hatchling like an angry child." Thundercracker turned to the berth, where his offspring lied motionless.

He felt despair clench at his spark—something one would think odd of any Decepticon. But, the truth was, they were still Cybertronians, just like the Autobots; and thus capable of sharing the same feelings. The seeker had been fooled by Arcee's caring façade. How could he have been so gullible? Thundercracker reached out to nudge the sleek body of the hatchling. It never had the chance to cocoon itself.

On the floor, Arcee sat up on her hands, grinning at the sight. "You'll never reach your goal. NEVER!" Thundercracker had enough of her voice, her presence, and aimed his arm canon at the femme. Without another thought, the seeker shot her through the spark—instant death. "You should have ripped her head off, sir. Eye for an eye," Flatline sneered. The cobalt jet released a sigh and glanced to the birthing room. "Is she ready?" The medic nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I want to watch…"

"Of course, sir."

Thundercracker was no stranger to hatchlings. He had another son, from another femme, long before they came to Earth. In fact, the young mech was a member of Acid Storm's trine. He thought of himself as being a good father, always wanting what was best for his offspring; he even showed disinterest in Megatron's little plan. Now, he stood with Flatline as they watched over Elita, waiting for her to part from the bud pushing away her abdominal plating.

"Who is the sire?" he asked. Flatline stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It is either Megatron or Starscream… She could have more than one hatchling, each from different fathers. It is rare, but possible."

"I guess we'll find out."

In the holding area, Chromia paced. "Something bad is happening," she murmured. "Something bad is _going_ to happen." Firestar frowned, though kept herself from speaking. It wouldn't do any good. "That stuff they injected us with… The serum… What does it do?" Greenlight tilted her head to the side. "If I remember correctly, it's used to accelerate the growth process of a hatchling. It was never really… tested, before now."

"So, how long do we have?" Firestar inquired, glancing down to the small bulge. Greenlight did some calculations in her head. "I'd say… another day or so," she said all too calmly for their tastes. Chromia fumed, her fist colliding with the wall. "Is there some way we can abort these things?" She was never interested in having children, which was the center of many arguments between her and Ironhide. Firestar, however, smoothed her hand over the blue jelly-like surface. "I don't know… I kinda like it," she said. "Even if it _is _Starscream's."

"Are you serious? Carrying has made you insane, Firestar."

"Not at all, Chromia. I was planning on taking it with me, when we left this place."

"What makes you—"

"Optimus will come. Do you honestly think Ironhide would let you stay here? Did you think _any_ of them would allow this to go on?"

Just as she said that, an explosion rattled the holding cells. Kup hopped to his feet. "Ha! I knew Perceptor would put those bombs to good use!" The alarms began to scream. The femmes were evacuated quickly as the Wreckers took up arms with the rest of the Autobots. "Where are Elita and Arcee?" Springer looked to Optimus, his expression one of disgust. "We last saw them leave with Flatline. I'd check the medbay."

"Prowl, you and Jazz come with me. The rest of you, take the females back to base."

* * *

_Don't kill me. D:_


	8. Chapter 8

_XD_

_He uses this method, not only because he wants an army, but to continue the species; hoping to colonize Earth or add diversity once he brings Cybertron back to life. That's his goal, anyway. He's just very impatient._

_I also based Arcee off her IDW persona, where she's just really… not all there. And she didn't necessarily fall in love with Thundercracker. She had it planned the moment she found out what they wanted to do with her. I mean, what with Springer hating her guts right now and all, she kinda felt like it didn't matter if she died or not._

_I hope that explains it a little bit… It can be difficult for me to get things out as I imagine them without making it so confusing. D:_

_As always, thank you all for the reviews/favs/alerts!  
Apologies for the short chapter!_

* * *

Elita hung her head as the hatchling scurried to the wall, where it began to form the cocoon. Flatline and Thundercracker watched with curiosity, noticing how the creature was free of wing stubs. "That's a good thing," mumbled the seeker. "Megatron would have been very upset." The medic nodded. "At least she hasn't made an attempt to kill it." Thundercracker scoffed and turned to leave, pausing in his steps as Blitzwing barged in. "Autobots… They took the femmes."

Elita perked up, blue gaze aimed at the medbay entrance. "Optimus…" She whispered her beloved's name, standing. "Optimus!"

Flatline growled. "Quiet, you!" He aimed his gun at the femme. As Prime shot down the door, Prowl and Jazz entered, shooting down the trio of Decepticons. Optimus ran over to his mate, pulling her into an embrace. "Are you alright, Elita?" The female nodded, and then gestured to the cocoon hanging on the wall. Optimus lifted his gun, only to have Elita's hand resting upon his arm. "Don't kill it."

"But Elita…"

"Megatron's."

"Then it must be deactivated."

"No. Take it with us."

The Prime exhaled deeply. "Very well, Elita. But promise me one thing…"

"Anything."

"It must never know its sire."

Elita nodded, walking over to detach the pod from the wall's surface. She held it firmly to her chest and carried it out of the medbay, followed closely by the three Autobots. Megatron stood near the mouth of the gaping hole, barking orders to his disoriented Decepticons. As he watched Optimus and Elita squeeze by with his hatchling, the tyrant emitted a furious wail and began to beat Starscream into a bloody pulp, blaming him for letting the Autobots escape.

Autobot Base

Moonracer had claimed a spot in the chair next to Red Alert. She watched him work, knowing it made him uncomfortable. She also made some offhand comments about how he sounded a little like Perceptor and how he twitched whenever in the presence of a fembot. She found it amusing, really; he was just too cute.

"Autobots are back."

"Huh?"

Red Alert pointed to the screen. "They're back. It looks like the mission was successful." The femme jumped from her seat and raced out of the room, the security officer following close behind. Moonracer stood off to the side, watching the Autobots enter the base. Once she caught sight of Chromia and Elita, she went over, questioning them about their status and such. Elita offered a smile, moving past her to tend to the pod she held. Moonracer then looked to Chromia, who seemed rather standoffish. The blue fembot simply voiced her mate's name and left it at that. Apparently, Ironhide had forced her to give up the bud, which she didn't mind, really; it just left her feeling… weird.

As Perceptor entered, Moonracer went to him, her optics wandering over his body as she checked for injuries. The sniper tilted his head a little. "I'm fine, Moonracer." She stepped back. "Of course, you are," she said with a nervous smile. "I guess everything will be alright, right?" Perceptor gently took the femme's hand and led her away from the crowd and into a vacant room. Before she could say anything, the scientist pulled her close and kissed her fully. Moonracer swooned, feeling her back hit the surface of the wall. "Perceptor…" She gently pushed at his chest. "I…" Perceptor brought his lips to hers once again, refusing to let her speak.

Optimus Prime looked over the rescued femmes. "It would seem Firestar and Elita are the only ones with hatchlings." He glanced to Springer, feeling sorry for the guy. The triple-changer stood off to the side, mentally berating himself for thinking what he did about Arcee. Hot Rod swore up and down that he had nothing to do with the femme, but could he really believe that? Would he believe Starscream over his own comrade? Kup reassured Prime that all would be well in a few days—or as well as it could get.

Ratchet was given the task of carrying out physicals on all female Autobots, and checking the health of the hatchlings. Elita's daughter was suffering due to the lack of energon; the trek had taken its toll on the pod and wasn't expected to survive. Firestar, however, was able to watch her son detach himself from her womb and build a cocoon on the nest wall Ratchet had constructed for her. She named him Sunstorm.

_Sources say more female Cybertronians are alive and well on Cybertron—Decepticon females. They would be more than happy to donate spark energy to Megatron and his men; he can still win._

_We can't let that happen._

_-Prowl_


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks! :)_

_As for Arcee, she is dead. Thundercracker extinguished her spark after finding out she killed his hatchling. Chromia is having a mixture of emotions. At first, she wasn't too fond of carrying and wanted to kill it, but that was her choice. Ironhide just flat out told her 'no, if she was going to carry, it was gonna be __**his**__.' And that's when she realized that she wasn't the cold, hard bitch she thought herself to be. X3  
_

* * *

**Moonracer's POV**

_Two years have passed, and Decepticon activity has become more of a nuisance than anything. Firestar and Inferno spent majority of their time raising Sunstorm—he's now a juvenile. Prowl seems to think he'll be a good addition to the Autobots, thanks to his seeker abilities. It still freaks me out, though… It's like having Starscream around the base, only… orange._

_As for me, I'm stuck watching over my own._

Moonracer glanced down as the little hatchling began to gnaw on her foot. She gently pushed him away, only to have him back at her ankle like a playful kitten.

_His name is Scope and, like all young bots, he's very curious. Perceptor doesn't have much to do with him, really. I mean, he's a good sire, but… not very loveable. Not that Scope needs to be coddled. That would be asking for trouble._

The femme eyed the sharp blade at the end of his tail.

_He's recently hatched and has one Hell of an appetite. He even got into Sunstreaker's stash of high-grade; drank up nearly two cubes of it._

Scope climbed onto his mother's dangling foot and curled up, pulling his tail around him. He soon fell asleep, purring away, trilling every now and again. Moonracer found it adorable and a single through sprung up—she wanted more.

_No, no… Perceptor would kill me. Let's get through this one, first._

She moved, causing the hatchling to stir. He lifted his head, large blue eyes staring straight at her. "Sorry," she said. Scope decided he wasn't going to get much sleep anyway, and proceeded to climb up her body. He sat on her chestplate, his small hands curled up at his chest, head cocking to the side as he emitted soft clicks of interest.

"I have nothing for you… You ate all the energon goodies I had."

The door opened, then, revealing a very exhausted Perceptor. Scope perked up and hopped down, scurrying over to the scientist. He latched onto his sire's treads, trilling loudly. "I think he's missed you…" she said. "Or, maybe he's just hungry. He's devoured all the energon I had in my possession."

Perceptor reached down, plucking the serpentine creature from his leg. He held him up, getting a good look, before placing him upon his shoulder. Scope waved his tail about, curiosity getting the better of him as he spied his father's shoulder cannon. He crawled over, using his tail for balance as his tiny hands began to smooth alone the smooth surface. "I will acquire a cube for him." As the sniper reached to pull him off, Scope hissed, the blade of his tail aimed at the extremity.

Slightly annoyed by the hatchling's antics, Perceptor gave one forceful shake of his shoulder, sending Scope to the floor. Once he regained his senses, Scope sat on his haunches, looking up at the taller mech. Moonracer smirked. "Look at him, Percy…" she said, moving over to the pair, running her hand along Perceptor's shoulder; "He wants his _da_." She giggled, moving to exit the room.

Scope opened his mouth, revealing several rows of sharp teeth—good for chewing up metal and raw energon. Perceptor exhaled deeply and reached down, lifting the hatchling up by the tail. He carried his son into the rec room, sitting him upon the table. "Wait here," he said, turning to gather up a small amount of raw energon. Scope waited patiently. Once the energon was on the table, the hatchling dived for it, crunching happily on the fuel.

Perceptor sat down to watch him, his optics flitting from one part of his body to the next. He was perfect; healthy. He never thought he would have a hatchling of his own, let alone with Moonracer. He was taken from his thoughts as Scope nuzzled the last piece of energon, his glossa reaching out to taste it.

The little guy was satisfied—for now.

* * *

_I'm gonna end it there and pick it back up in a sequel, methinks.  
And I have ideas for a Ghosts sequel, so I wanna work on that, too. :3_

_And, no, that isn't 'Ghosts' Scope. I just liked the name._


End file.
